Is It Nap Time Yet?
Because I could sure use one.
I left the office yesterday around 2:45--since the house inspection was at 3:00, I figured I'd drop off Bob's paperwork to the school first, since they're in the same neighborhood. I debated telling them The Story of the Douchebag That Wouldn't Die, but decided at the last minute to spare myself the embarrassment. I figure they'll find out soon enough.
The inspector was about 900 years old and smelly, but my realtor thinks he's awesome, and I trust her judgment 100%. He was very, very thorough--and this is good, because he found a lot of shit. Like a leak around the chimney (some old rusted out flashing), which the owners had "solved" by sticking a bucket under it in the attic. Nice. And the main bathroom has some shitty tile that's coming loose, and the shower diverter is about shot--basically, the whole tub area needs an overhaul. And the furnace is about shot. And the electrical box needs to be upgraded and replaced (as it is, we wouldn't be able to plug our dryer in without shorting out the house). Otherwise, the place is in good shape. But of course, now I'm obsessing over what if the sellers won't fix anything and as a result our financing goes belly-up and the whole deal shoots craps and we're stuck in our current dump FOREVER??? (Yes, I'm crazy.)
The inspection dragged out for a whole three hours. I left around 5:00 to pick up Bob, and by that time, I felt so shitty I was glad to get out. It was hot in the house because of all the doors being opened and appliances being run and all, and my stomach was just not happy at all. So when I left, I turned the a/c on full blast and left the car running while I fetched Bob, and let it blast in my face all the way home. That helped. I made the kid take a much-needed shower when we got home, while I "cooked" dinner (Bertoli frozen fettucine alfredo with chicken). Ben finally arrived around 6:30.
That's about the time I read the information the school sent home with me, and discovered the "back to school night" is the Thursday before school starts, from 5-8pm. Yeah, that's the final Thursday of db's "summer vacation" time.
Fuck me.
So I decided I'll just take Bob up there right at 5:00, let him get his tour of the school and find his teacher and classroom, and then we'll high-tail it to the hood to meet db. I suppose an easier alternative would be to tell him this is going on, and have him pick Bob up at the school, but dammit, I don't want his ass there. He'll huff and puff and throw his weight around and grandstand and generally be an idiot, and annoy the teachers and staff with his stupid questions and demands and diatribes about what a bitch I am and what a great parent he is, and it will be a repeat performance of every other school-related scenario over the past 3 years. And I just don't have the patience for that this time. So fuck it.
I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact I'm not likely to get pregnant for another year or so at best--the reports from other women who have used depo provera aren't promising--and that's fine. But it really pisses me off that I got knocked up at the drop of a hat by some abusive douchebag who's been nothing but trouble, and when I WANT to get knocked up by the man I should have been with all along, I can't. Fate sucks like that.
Oh, well. I guess I should just be grateful to have some time to play financial catch-up before we have to worry about double daycare. After all, Murphy Brown was over 35--I can be, too.
I left the office yesterday around 2:45--since the house inspection was at 3:00, I figured I'd drop off Bob's paperwork to the school first, since they're in the same neighborhood. I debated telling them The Story of the Douchebag That Wouldn't Die, but decided at the last minute to spare myself the embarrassment. I figure they'll find out soon enough.
The inspector was about 900 years old and smelly, but my realtor thinks he's awesome, and I trust her judgment 100%. He was very, very thorough--and this is good, because he found a lot of shit. Like a leak around the chimney (some old rusted out flashing), which the owners had "solved" by sticking a bucket under it in the attic. Nice. And the main bathroom has some shitty tile that's coming loose, and the shower diverter is about shot--basically, the whole tub area needs an overhaul. And the furnace is about shot. And the electrical box needs to be upgraded and replaced (as it is, we wouldn't be able to plug our dryer in without shorting out the house). Otherwise, the place is in good shape. But of course, now I'm obsessing over what if the sellers won't fix anything and as a result our financing goes belly-up and the whole deal shoots craps and we're stuck in our current dump FOREVER??? (Yes, I'm crazy.)
The inspection dragged out for a whole three hours. I left around 5:00 to pick up Bob, and by that time, I felt so shitty I was glad to get out. It was hot in the house because of all the doors being opened and appliances being run and all, and my stomach was just not happy at all. So when I left, I turned the a/c on full blast and left the car running while I fetched Bob, and let it blast in my face all the way home. That helped. I made the kid take a much-needed shower when we got home, while I "cooked" dinner (Bertoli frozen fettucine alfredo with chicken). Ben finally arrived around 6:30.
That's about the time I read the information the school sent home with me, and discovered the "back to school night" is the Thursday before school starts, from 5-8pm. Yeah, that's the final Thursday of db's "summer vacation" time.
Fuck me.
So I decided I'll just take Bob up there right at 5:00, let him get his tour of the school and find his teacher and classroom, and then we'll high-tail it to the hood to meet db. I suppose an easier alternative would be to tell him this is going on, and have him pick Bob up at the school, but dammit, I don't want his ass there. He'll huff and puff and throw his weight around and grandstand and generally be an idiot, and annoy the teachers and staff with his stupid questions and demands and diatribes about what a bitch I am and what a great parent he is, and it will be a repeat performance of every other school-related scenario over the past 3 years. And I just don't have the patience for that this time. So fuck it.
I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact I'm not likely to get pregnant for another year or so at best--the reports from other women who have used depo provera aren't promising--and that's fine. But it really pisses me off that I got knocked up at the drop of a hat by some abusive douchebag who's been nothing but trouble, and when I WANT to get knocked up by the man I should have been with all along, I can't. Fate sucks like that.
Oh, well. I guess I should just be grateful to have some time to play financial catch-up before we have to worry about double daycare. After all, Murphy Brown was over 35--I can be, too.
posted by Mitzi Green at 7:25 AM
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